


what the rain left us with

by SlugShrug



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Briefly implied verbal/parental abuse, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Takes place s1-4, scottish safehouse ending, some brief skirt jon rights, umbrella sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:02:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25158187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlugShrug/pseuds/SlugShrug
Summary: Over the years they may not always be able to protect each other from monsters, but they can at least try to protect each other from the rain.(Alternatively, 4 times one of them had an umbrella, and the 1 time they did not)
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 18
Kudos: 141





	what the rain left us with

_Shit shit shit shit shit_

Martin’s running late. He’s running late and it’s _raining_ and he was in so much in a hurry that he forgot his umbrella. To make matters worse, his coat doesn’t even have a hood attached. He reaches into his satchel in a vain attempt to find something useful. There’s the leather journal he bought himself as a gift to write poetry in. The material would be good to put over his head but it made his chest ache thinking about ruining the one item he allowed himself to splurge on. Then there’s the folder containing notes from a statement and a follow-up report that he’s supposed to turn in to Jon today. 

Using that was completely out of the question. He could already hear Jon berating him again about being irresponsible and not caring about his work (which he _does_ and if he were bolder, he would remind Jon that he has been there _long_ before he has). Martin really doesn’t want to give Jon or Elias any other reason to fire him. He’s afraid of them both, but Elias especially since it always seems as if he _knows_ something.

_He might be getting suspicious about my degree._

Martin has had this worry for nearly ten years of working there and it’s never eased up. Right when he thinks he could breathe, that he has nothing to worry about with his job, Elias comes in to make some sort of remark that puts Martin on edge.

_“Now Martin, I would think you could write a better follow-up than this; being at university for four years and all. . .”_

_“Really Martin, these are just the basics of parapsychology. Where did you say you went to school again?”_

_“Martin I should not have to remind you of our dress code policy; we are running an institution here.”_

Martin didn’t want to point out that Tim and Sasha and nearly everyone else but Jon didn’t follow the stuffy dress code but Martin always feels that it’s better to comply than argue.

Martin sighs then realizes the obvious solution which is to just hold his coat over his head and continue running.

“Martin!”

Martin abruptly stops and turns around; an action which causes him to slip and fall on the hard pavement.

_Great. Just Great. Now I’ve given my boss more reason to call me incompetent._

Jon is standing over him now, with a look that Martin’s never seen him wear before.

“Are you alright? Can you stand?” Jon is holding out his hand now.

Oh, kindness. That’s what it is. His eyes seem softer now.

 _That’s not going to last long_ Martin thinks as he turns his head and sees the contents of his bag spilled out. The notes and papers from the follow-up statement are getting drenched by the rain.

“Oh.”

Martin doesn’t want to see the inevitable change in demeanor as he ignores Jon’s outstretched hand and struggles to his feet. He’s already starting his apologies as he scrambles after the ruined work.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. . . I mean, I’ll try to dry these off when I get to the institute.”

Jon is also kneeling beside him, trying to gather the papers with one hand while holding an umbrella above their heads with the other.

“That’s quite alright. I had Sasha make copies of the notes and I’m sure you could rewrite some of. . .” Jon trails off and goes to pick up something that landed in the dirt.

Martin’s poetry journal.

It was completely soaked through and caked in mud. _Maybe it was a sign that I should have been used against the rain_ , Martin thinks bitterly.

Jon pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket, now balancing his umbrella between his shoulder and the crook of his neck, and begins to wipe down the journal.

“Don’t worry about it Jon, it’s just a journal. I can always get another one.”

“I doubt that.”

“What?” 

Jon hands back the barely salvageable journal and miscellaneous statement papers and Martin wordlessly places them back in his bag.

“You don’t seem to be the type to buy new things for yourself. I mean, judging by your coat— not that there’s anything wrong with it, it’s just . . .”

Martin nods. It’s obviously worn and doesn’t fit properly anymore but he hasn’t put any thought into getting another one.

Why is that? Surely he could afford new clothes.

_But this one still has a few good wears. I mean it’s not completely fallen apart. God I can’t think about shopping, the rent in London is so high and I have to pay for mum’s home care and. . ._

“Sorry, I guess that was rude of me to mention.”

It was but Martin felt it wouldn’t be his place to correct him.

“We can share my umbrella if you’d like. That’s actually why I called out to you in the first place.”

“Oh. . . okay.”

Jon offers his hand again and this time Martin takes it.

They walk to the institute in silence; going slowly since the fall really has Martin feeling sore.

Jon opens the door for him and Martin ducks in with a quick thank you. Jon shakes the rain off the umbrella and straightens his posture.

“Right well, I’ll take whatever you are able to salvage and re-write by the end of the day.” Jon says, taking on his stern archivist persona again.

Persona; that’s the first time Martin considered Jon’s demeanor for what it really is. Just a mask to put on while he’s at work. Martin of all people could understand that.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to do that.” Martin gives him a soft smile and Jon returns it just briefly before heading into his office.

Rosie is able to loan Martin an umbrella when he leaves for home at the end of the day. The next morning Martin finds a brown leather journal on his desk that actually looks a lot nicer than the one he originally bought. There’s even a lock attached to it. On top is a note sticky note that just says _I should hope this gift improves your workplace performance- Jonathan Sims._

Martin snorts at this. Something inside his chest feels lighter and he can’t stop smiling. He places the note inside the cover as a keepsake.

***

As far as Jon was concerned, he only needed to leave the house with a tape recorder, his lighter, and a pocket knife he recently purchased. He has more important things to worry about the _weather_ and paid no mind to the rain steadily pouring down on him.There’s a lot to contemplate after the Prentiss attack and the mystery of Gertrude’s killer. He’s already started observing Tim and as for Martin—

“Jon?”

Jon turned his head wildly and saw Martin approaching with his umbrella in hand.

“Jesus you’re soaked through. Here we can share mine.” He says while leaning the umbrella over Jon’s head. Jon looks wearily at Martin, which makes him uneasy.

“Erm, unless you don’t want to?”

Jon considers his options. Martin is definitely high on the suspect list since he found Gertrude’s body. All of those times he’s been scared or any time he gave Jon tea could have all been part of an elaborate front. Well two can play at this game.

“No, no, it’s fine.” Jon says in what he hopes is in a nonchalant tone. “We can walk together.”

He can’t let Martin know that he suspects him. He can play along with this niceness and when the time comes—

“Oh, watch out.” Suddenly Jon feels Martin gently pulling him closer by the shoulders as a car drives through a puddle and splashes the spot Jon was at.

“That was close.” Martin says, moving his hand away.

For a moment, Jon forgets that he’s supposed to be suspicious and longs for the warmth of his hand on their way to work.

***

When it starts to rain, Jon absent-mindedly grasps for his umbrella before crying out and remembering his hand is still badly burned. He drops it and watches helplessly as it rolls into the street and down a storm drain. If he wasn’t in so much pain, it would almost be comical.

“Need a hand?”

Jon smirks.

“Is that a joke?”

“Depends if you found it funny.” Martin is smiling but his eyes look sad. He holds out his umbrella and Jon moves right next to him.

“So. . . Prepared for tomorrow?” Martin asks.

“You mean stopping the end of the world?”

“Yeah.”

Jon lets out a breath.

“I’ve. . . Prepared the best that I could. Everyone else has too and. . . I trust them. I trust you, too.”

Martin looks away from him and Jon can only do the same. They don’t remember the walk to the institute ever being this long.

“If something happens to you,” Martin says, almost strained. “Should I call—“

“Oh, just Georgie. I don’t have any other family.”

Martin looks back at him with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Yes, you don’t really have to worry Martin.” Jon says slowly. “My parents died when I was much younger and the grandmother who raised me already passed away. I’m an only child and not really close to any other relatives so you only really need to call Georgie.”

This should really be a relief to Martin, Jon thinks. At least he knows he doesn’t have to deal with any grieving parents or sobbing relatives. He’s not really sure about the others but—

He’s caught off guard when Martin pulls him into a hug. The rain is hitting them both but neither can muster the energy to care. Jon leans into him, clutching at his back with his good hand. He doesn’t know why, but it feels as if they have a mutual understanding over something.

***

Isolation has never been harder since Jon woke up from his coma. _Especially_ , since Jon has been trying to reach out to him so many times.

_He really has great timing, doesn’t he?_

The hardest part about this is having to pretend to not care. Forcing himself to not check on him after the hospital, to not make sure he’s eating enough, or staying at work too late. He has been trying in subtler ways though. He stocked up the breakroom with instant noodles and other ready-made meals. He left a few notes on some of the on the fridge and outside of the cupboards that just said ‘ _help yourself’._ A few were taken down, probably from cleaning staff, though Martin is uncertain of their existence. He then saw on one of the notes there was a ‘ _thank you’_ written in Jon’s scraggly handwriting. Martin’s heart feels heavy. He holds the note and stares at it for a long time. Just at the corner of his eye he sees Peter Lukas emerging from his fog. He’s gotten better at spotting him now.

Martin crumples the note up and throws it in the bin. Peter Lukas looks at him, pleased.

“Very good.” He says. Peter gives him another statement about the supposed extinction and disappears. Martin reads through it numbly.

_I’m doing this for Jon, I’m doing this for Jon._

He’s been repeating this mantra so many times that it’s beginning to lose it’s meaning.

_Does he even need me?_

At the first sign of rain he doesn’t even bother looking through his bag. He probably left his umbrella at home again or maybe it’s back at work; Martin can’t really bring himself to remember.

“Martin! Martin!” 

_Shit_

Martin pretends not to hear Jon, even though he obviously froze up at the sound of his name, and keeps walking. Jon still manages to catch up to him though and is clearly out of breath.

“You don’t have to say anything just, take this.”

When Martin turns to look at him, Jon quickly places an umbrella in his hand and runs the other direction.

_Did he really just. . . Did Jon really just find me because I didn’t have an umbrella?_

Martin doesn’t even question how Jon knew he was out in the rain since he’s been “knowing” a lot more lately. But the fact that he deliberately wanted to know if Martin had an umbrella out here with him. . .

It hurts. It makes his chest ache just how much he wants to be near him. The fog grows thicker around him and Martin trudges on with the umbrella unopened in his hand.

***

When they leave the lonely, they stop at Martin’s place first to pack his things. Martin is able to fit most of his closet in his suitcase; maybe more if he was given more time to neatly fold it all in.

Jon is waiting in the car that Basira is letting them borrow.

“Right then. Off to the safe-house.”

“What about your things?”

Jon paused.

“Oh, right. I’ll be quick then.”

Martin waits in the car. When Jon emerged he was only carrying a small backpack.

“Is that all you’re taking?” He asks when he gets into the car.

“Oh, well, I don’t really have much.” Jon says sheepishly. 

“When I fled from Jurgen Leitner’s corpse I went straight to Georgie’s and my only option for clothing was her merchandise. I was also keeping most of my wardrobe at the archives but Basira said they were thrown out. She got me a few new clothes though. Then I was traveling for so long that I only had time to buy t-shirts from gift shops.”

Jon let out a hollow chuckle and Martin felt a pang of guilt. He wasn’t sure why he felt it; it’s not like he personally threw out Jon’s clothes or made him flee his home. But after worrying about Jon for so long, he just ached thinking about not being there for him. Or at least not as present as he could have been.

Martin felt a jolt as Jon reached out to touch his arm.

When was the last time he had any physical contact?

“It’ll be okay now, just. . . Stay with me.”

Martin could barely hold the intensity of his gaze before just nodding numbly.

There wasn’t any argument about sharing a bed. They were both so tired that they dropped their bags and immediately passed out in the bedroom.

They’ve been living in the safehouse for nearly a week now and each day the fog inside Martin’s mind begins to slowly lift. This is the first time he’s cooked since they’ve been there. These past few days Jon has been taking care of Martin; bringing _him_ tea and making sure _he_ ate instead of the other way around when they were in the archives. Or at least before The Lonely got to him.

It was nice, being fussed over for once. It was definitely something he needed to get used to though, after being isolated for so many months. But today Martin’s feeling a bit more energetic and he’s already pouring their tea.

“I certainly hope Daisy doesn’t mind me borrowing her clothes.”

Martin looks up from the breakfast he’s setting down on the table. 

Jon is wearing a long mauve colored skirt and a soft cream colored jumper.

Looking at Jon now he wishes he could just take him by the waist; hands moving up the soft material of his jumper and breathing out that he looks lovely.

Instead he says, “I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Jon does the washing up when they’re done eating.

“Should we go for a walk when you’re done?” Martin suggests. “I haven’t really gotten to know the area yet.”

“Yes!” Jon says immediately looking startled at his own over enthusiastic response. It was the first time Martin took initiative for what he wanted to do and Jon had been very careful not to push him this past week.

“I mean, yes of course. That sounds like a good idea, Martin.”

It was in fact, not a good idea.

They walked down to the village and Jon led him to where he saw some “good cows”.

_“Really Jon? Good cows?”_

_“Well what else should I call them?!”_

It was then that Martin thought he felt a drop of rain. He wasn’t sure about it till another one came down; this time staining his glasses.

_Oh no._

It’s not as if they could have prepared for this since in the rush of packing they _both_ forgot to bring umbrellas but they certainly would not be out in the open like this had they known about the weather today.

They were a little ways from the house and as the rain descended upon them, Martin quickly took off his coat and lifted it above his head.

“Get under here!” He shouted. Jon quickly complied, helping to hold up the other end.

“We’ll have to make a run for it!” Jon says; and even though Martin isn’t looking at him, he can hear the amusement in his voice.

“Okay, let’s go!”

They quickly learned that this form of cover is _very_ inefficient. They both run at different paces, the height difference makes the coat coverage uneven, and they can barely see where they’re going.

“Slow down! Do you know how hard it is to run in a skirt?”

“Well why did you wear it in the first place?!”

“I don’t know! It looked nice and I didn’t think we’d be in this situation!”

They’re laughing now as Martin gives up and throws the coat over his shoulder.

“We can make it through this! Just hold on!” Martin shouts dramatically as he grabs Jon’s hand and pulls him forwards.

“I’ll try!”

They’re nearly up the hill to the safehouse when Jon slips and Martin turns just in time to catch him and pull him close. Martin’s hands are on his waist and Jon is clinging to his chest. Their hearts are beating fast before they both let out a breathy laugh.

“Sorry,” Jon says.

“It's okay.”

Martin steadies Jon upwards and it would all be very romantic if Martin didn’t also fall on his next step; taking Jon down with him.

“Oh come on!” Martin shouts at the sky as Jon is laughing beside him. He’s never seen Jon smile this much before.

When they finally reach the safehouse they’re both drenched and covered in mud. They have a small argument over who should take a shower first.

“Jon you really need to go in first, there’s literally mud in your hair!”

“Which is why you should go first! Getting this out will take ages!”

Martin had to agree there.

“Fine, but I’ll be quick.”

“I‘ll get the fire started then.”

The place is considerably warmer now when Martin is done with his shower and by the time Jon gets out he has tea ready for him.

“Ah, thank you.” Jon says as he takes it to the couch.

Martin watches him for a moment. He really has changed since the coma. Or was it since the Prentiss attack? They’ve been through a lot of changes, Martin realizes. 

“I should probably stop borrowing Daisy’s clothes,” Jon muses. “Don’t want to get them ruined like that again.”

“It’s nothing that a simple wash won’t fix.” Martin says. He hesitates to say something else then decides to go for it.

“You look nice in them anyway.”

Jon looks momentarily surprised before smiling into his tea.

At some point they put on a movie; some sort of nature documentary. They’re on the couch now; neither really noticed when they started moving closer to each other. Jon looks towards the window.

“You know I never really liked the rain before.”

“No? That’s a surprise; I always took you as the type that likes gloomy weather. Just brooding in the archives as a storm rages on or something.”

Jon gives a small chuckle and shakes his head.

“No, I always felt that it got in the way of things. As a child I used to venture outside a lot and the rain would hinder any of my plans. Then as I got older it just became an annoyance for travel.”

“Hm.” Martin thought about how much he hated the rain as a kid. How it meant having to stay inside with his mum; how the chill would make her bones ache and how that would make her words harsher towards him.

“I don’t seem to mind it now though.” Jon says quietly.

“Me neither.”

They turn their attention back to the documentary. Not much time passes before Martin reaches for his poetry journal sitting nearby.

“I’m surprised you still have it.” Jon murmurs.

“What?”

“The journal I gave you.”

“Oh, right. Well it’s nearly full now.” Martin says flipping the pages so Jon could see the blurred lines of ink he’s filled. “So it’s been put to good use.”

“Hm, I should probably get you another one.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” Jon looks at him earnestly.

“Okay,” Martin says, “Then I’ll get you something too.”

Martin jots down a few lines of poetry but his heart doesn’t feel in it anymore. He turns back to the inside cover and looks at Jon.

“I still have your note.”

“My what?”

Martin peels off the sticky note and hands it to Jon. His expression changes from recognition to embarrassment as he puts his face in his hands.

“Oh, God, _‘workplace performance’_ have I always sounded this pretentious?”

Martin snorts at this as Jon hands him back the note.

“I mean, seriously” Jon continues, “I will never understand how you ever liked me.”

Martin goes quiet when he realizes they never actually talked about Martin’s crush on Jon. Or the fact that Jon had actually known about it prior.

_Well of course he's known this whole time, you've been so bloody obvious—_

"I mean I only heard gossip a few hours before the wax museum explosion and based on what you said in the lonely. . .”

_Oh right, I said I loved him._

There’s an uncomfortable beat of silence before Jon suddenly leaps from the couch and heads to the bedroom, leaving the space next to Martin cold before coming back with his jacket. Martin is about to ask where Jon is going before he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a folded up post-it. He plops back down beside him as he hands the note to Martin who unfolds to see his own handwriting say _‘help yourself’_.

“We weren’t really talking and seeing that was the closest thing I had with communication with you.” Jon says. “Daisy said it was weird to keep it but since you kept yours . . . Though maybe it is weird since you didn’t really give this to me, I just sort of picked it up and—“

Martin takes Jon’s hand.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Wha— yeah okay.”

At this Martin bursts out laughing while Jon ducks his head in embarrassment. He didn’t mean to laugh; the less than eloquent response from Jon was just unexpected and Martin is already giddy from receiving permission.

Martin kisses the top of his head first and Jon lets out a little noise of surprise. He can smell the lavender in his hair. Martin tilts his chin up; Jon still has the same soft brown eyes he noticed their first time in the rain. They flutter closed as Martin leans in to kiss him properly this time.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is actually my first fic (or at least my first time publishing one) so let me know your thoughts!  
> As for now you can follow me @slugshrug on tumblr (at least until I consider having a separate blog for my writing)!


End file.
